Clementines  The Carlisle Files
by Nachos4Children
Summary: Outtakes from my fic, Clementines, told from Carlisle's POV. SUMMARY: Bella hasn't had much luck in the love department. Will that luck change when she goes to college and runs into the handsome Dr. Carlisle Cullen? AH/AU OOC Non-canon. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Let me set things straight: I don't own Twilight. Who told you I did? I want names.**

**I am fully aware that the majority of you who voted in my poll did not pick this chapter for Carlisle's POV. But after I thought about it, I figured it made more sense to start right here. If you think I did a good job, I promise that I will write at least 1 or 2 more chapters from his perspective - maybe more. But until then, here is chapter 2 of Clementines from Carlisle's POV. I hope you like it.**

**CPOV**

_Four years she ate my dinners_  
_Four years she drank my wines_  
_And all the while_  
_I was nourishing her_  
_For some other crummy swines._

I slammed another useless book shut. Why was it that every poem I read reminded me of Esme?

Researching this book was going to drive me insane. I was used to my own personal library of musical literature where everything was familiar and made sense to me. In this giant library, searching for appropriate poems to compare to Debussy was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Frustrated, I was lost in my thoughts, when the something crashed into the back of my legs. Hard. Not so hard that it hurt, but hard enough to piss me off. I rolled my eyes and silently cursed as I heard a large amount of books topple loudly to the floor. _Perfect._ Angrily, I spun around to confront the imbecile who clearly needed to pay more attention to what he was doing.

"Holy shit."

"Excuse me?" I shot back without thinking.

I was expecting to see a clumsy teenage boy I would have to chew out, so imagine my surprise when I turned to see a young woman standing before me. Despite the fact that her large brown eyes stared into mine with shock and embarrassment, they were probably the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen. Her dark brunette hair trailed down the back of her purple and blue plaid shirt in tousled waves - almost down to top of her form-fitting jeans that were the style with a lot of my female students now. A lovely shade of pink was slowly spreading across her cheeks, and her mouth hung open in slight disbelief. My instinct was to gently close her mouth with my hand and give her the old "catching flies" routine, but I wasn't sure she'd find the same humor in it that I did.

"I mean, ar-are you okay?" she stammered, shifting uncomfortably before me.

Her adorable insecurity quickly dissipated my anger and I gave her a warm smile. "I'm fine, really - no harm done."

She seemed to visibly relax, but only for a moment.

"Again, I am so, so sorry. I should really look where I'm going." She crouched down and started picking up the books that had tumbled to the floor. "I'm such a freaking klutz."

"Ah, now I don't believe that. It was just an accident." I squatted down next to her and grabbed a few books to place back on the cart from which they had fallen.

"Oh, believe me, I make Gerald Ford look like Gene Kelly. And I'm not exaggerating."

I got the feeling that she wasn't just spouting self-deprecating humor - she really felt that way about herself. For some reason, it made me want to pull her into my arms, stroke her long hair, and tell her that it was all in her head. Obviously, I couldn't do that, so I tried to reassure her in another way.

"You weren't even alive when Ford was president, so I don't think you're allowed to make such comparisons."

I reached for another book, only to realize too late that she was reaching for the same one. Her hand shot back, and she must have lost her balance, because the next thing I knew, she was practically in the fetal position, lying on the floor. It was so coincidental with what she had just said, that I figured it couldn't have been an accident.

"You did that on purpose," I accused.

Slowly, she straightened herself up until she was on her knees - and for a split second my mind went into the gutter.

_Watch it, Carlisle._

"I wish, but nope that was all me. I told you so." Clearly, she was now even more upset with herself because her cheeks flushed an even darker shade of red.

I started to laugh again, and she hastily began to gather the last of the books.

"I'll get those," I quickly offered, trying to stifle my laughter so the poor thing wouldn't feel any worse.

"Don't worry about them. I've got 'em. But thanks anyway...uh..."

"Carlisle. Dr. Carlisle Cullen."

"Dr. Cullen. Nice to meet you. I'm Bella. Again, my apologies for ramming into you like that. I hope you aren't pretending to be okay for my sake."

A small shiver traveled up my spine when she said my name - I liked it.

"Of course not, Bella. It's actually been a pleasure talking to you."

It was true. As short as our encounter was, there was something about her that had piqued my interested. I had the feeling that a remarkable, interesting woman lay under her shy exterior. She struck me as the kind of girl who had no idea how beautiful she really was. I hadn't been teaching for very long, but I had met plenty of women - students and colleagues alike - who were drop-dead gorgeous and used it to their every advantage. Of course, I had been with Esme all that time, so it hadn't mattered, but it had sort of bothered me just the same whenever they tried to flirt their way to a higher grade or position with me.

I don't know why, but something told me that Bella was different from any other girl I'd met.

I extended my hand to her, and she grasped it almost hesitantly. My fingers curled around hers and squeezed gently. Her small hand trembled a little, but then quickly relaxed. I couldn't help but grin stupidly at her, partly because I wanted to reassure her that everything was fine, but mostly because I simply enjoyed the feeling of her smooth skin on mine.

To my delight, she actually smiled back. It looked genuine and was just as beautiful as the rest of her, if not more so.

"Perhaps we'll run into each other again sometime," I continued. Just the thought of another encounter with Bella was reason enough to start frequenting the library much more often.

"I certainly hope not," she giggled.

Her captivating giggle was my only clue that she was making a joke; otherwise, I wasn't sure I would have been able to hide my disappointment from her.

"I admit, bad choice of words," I laughed with her. "Have a good evening."

"You too, Dr. Cullen."

Another shiver.

I didn't really want to end our conversation, but I was aware that she probably needed to get back to work, so I reluctantly walked to the elevator to leave. It was pointless to try to do any more research; there was no way I'd be able to concentrate now.

Still, as I stepped inside, I turned to discreetly take in one more look. To my surprise, she was watching me as well, and my hand automatically waved to her. Just before the doors closed, I thought I saw something besides embarrassment on her face - longing.

I didn't know exactly what _she_ was longing for, but I was already planning my return trip to the library before I'd even reached the second floor.

**A/N: The poem "Good of Love" belongs to Spike Milligan**

**Oh, and a huge "thank you" to my lovely ladies, uhyesplease and StormDragonfly who nursed me through a lot of self doubt on this little drabble.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Alright, before my betas shit a brick wondering what the hell is going on, I want to say that today is my birthday - woohoo - so I thought I'd give back to_ them _(and all my very supportive readers) with another outtake of Clementines: The Carlisle Files. So don't panic, uhyesplease and StormDragonfly - I wanted to surprise you both by posting something that you hadn't already read! Enjoy!**

**Of course, I don't own Twilight. However, Peter Facinelli owns me, and apparently it's too much to ask for him to return my phone calls. **

**Without further adieu, here's Carlisle's POV of their *sigh* first kiss.**

"None ever was in love with me but grief.  
She wooed me from the day that I was born;  
She stole my playthings first, the jealous thief,  
And left me there forlorn.

The birds that in my garden would have sung,  
She scared away with her unending moan;  
She slew my lovers too when I was young,  
And left me there alone.

Grief, I have cursed thee often - now at last  
To hate thy name I am no longer free;  
Caught in thy bony arms and prisoned fast,  
I love no love but thee."

When she finished reciting the poem, my blood began to stir.

She had given up on love. Completely.

I could tell as much from her eyes and from the words she claimed to be her favorite. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and tell her that someday, someone would love her as she deserved to be loved.

How I wished that someone could be me.

"That's an interesting choice for a favorite poem," I said slowly.

"I guess it just strikes a chord with me." Her eyes were downcast as she shrugged at me. "I feel that way a lot of the time."

She was killing me. How could she feel so alone? Didn't she know just how special she was? In the few days I had known her, I could already tell that any man would be lucky to have her. Why couldn't she see that?

"I sincerely hope that changes for you very soon, Bella," I said, choosing my words carefully.

Her beautiful eyes met mine, and I would have given anything to know what she was thinking at that moment. I was just about to ask, when the stupid clock began to chime.

"Holy crap! It's midnight!" she exclaimed, glancing at her watch. "I should probably get going."

"Ugh. And I've got to teach theory at 8:30," I sighed in resignation. As much as it pained me, if she wanted to leave, I would let her.

I got up and stood in front of her, offering my hands to help her to her feet. Again, I reveled in the soft smoothness of her delicate hands - so cool to the touch. My hands probably felt like fire to her; it would only be a matter of minutes before she would drop them like a hot potato.

But she wasn't letting go.

I froze. Was this really happening? Her eyes bore into mine as we gravitated toward each other like magnets, our hands grasped firmly between us.

_Oh God, how I wished..._

Suddenly, her head was pressed against my chest. Her hands left mine - one wrapped itself behind my back, the other placed gently over my heart. Was it still beating? I gasped as the perfume of her hair hit the nerve center of my brain like a cannonball.

_Strawberries - my favorite._

"Thank you, Carlisle," she whispered.

"For what?" Without even thinking, my fingers began to comb through her long, soft hair, causing the scent to intensify tenfold.

"For being so nice and understanding. It's more than I deserve."

_Oh, my self-deprecating Bella. How wrong you are._

"Not true," I replied. "You deserve to be happy. I just hope you give yourself permission someday soon."

"I don't know if we have that kind of time," she murmured into my chest.

_We?_

_Did she just say, 'we'?_

I felt her hand start traveling up and down my side.

I couldn't take it anymore. If I'd had an ounce of resistance left in me, it was gone now. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I knew I was taking advantage of her and her vulnerability. I'd been fighting the feelings that had been brewing for her for nearly 3 days now, and I'd depleted all of my defenses. I couldn't help it, she_ had _to know that there was someone in this world who thought she hung the moon.

It was crazy and stupid of me, but so help me God, I would tell her how I felt, using the language I knew spoke: poetry.

"Bella?"

"Yes, Carlisle?"

"Would you like to hear another poem?" I asked, trying hard to keep my voice from shaking.

"I'd love to."

"It's called 'Night Without End.'"

I took a deep breath. I was standing at the edge of the cliff, and when I jumped, there would be no going back.

"Night without end  
Dull melancholy of the hours of waiting!  
Heart broken"

My fingers threaded into her hair, pulling her impossibly closer to me.

"Fever of blood beating out the sweet syllables of her name."

"Bella." Her name fell softly from my lips into her ear, as gentle as the first snowflake of winter.

"Let her come, whom I desire too much.  
Let her come, whom I love too much,  
and envelop me with her young flower's scent."

I took another deep breath, flooding my senses with her intoxicating perfume. She shivered against my cheek.

_I know. I feel it, too._

I pulled back and searched her eyes. I saw nothing but permission.

I swallowed.

"Let my lips bite the fruit of her mouth  
so that I hold her very soul between my lips."

She knew what was coming; her eyes closed in anticipation. I wouldn't deny her. To do so, would be to selfishly deny myself as well.

My lips pressed lightly against hers. As much as I wanted to sweep her off her feet and carry her to my bedroom, I held back - afraid that Bella was hypnotized by the poem, not me. But her hand slid up and around my neck, beckoning me closer as all my hesitation broke away.

Her lips were as soft as satin against mine. Her mouth, warm and welcoming, seemed to be inviting me in, and I slipped my tongue slowly over hers. She tasted even better than she smelled - like strawberries and sugar cane. How was that even possible?

Kissing Bella was like the first time I listened to Debussy. I had instantly fallen in love - knowing that it would never be enough, that I would never get tired of it, and it would always make me happy.

I pulled her flush against me, wanting to feel every inch of her body. I cupped her face in my hands, gently tilting it from side to side, while our tongues composed their own symphony together. Her hands roamed wherever they pleased, but seemed content to stay in the Northern Hemisphere.

I wish I could have said the same about my own self-control. Betrayed my own body, I felt the physical manifestation of how wrong this was press firmly into her abdomen.

But if she minded, she certainly didn't say so.

**A/N: A HUGE hug and million thank you's to mommybrook for betaing this at the 11th hour for me so that I could keep it a surprise. She is officially a ROCK STAR in my book, and if you're a fan of Bella/Jasper fics, please check out her fic Somebody to Love www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5394321/1/Somebody_to_Love**


End file.
